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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872860">against the wake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/marquis/pseuds/marquis'>marquis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Horror, Gen, Other, Team Dynamics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:08:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/marquis/pseuds/marquis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hercules Alighieri drinks from the Fountain of Youth. Ey do not feel all that different in the end; perhaps, looking at eir teammates, that is part of the problem.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hercules Alighieri &amp; Atlantis Georgias, Hercules Alighieri/Mint Shupe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>against the wake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heeeeello Atlantis Georgias! I know the team is still new and all of the lore is still kind of up in the air, so I just went a little off the string with this one. I hope you don't mind. I'm just really excited about sea monster people, honestly. Just to go over some basics here, this is the very preliminary lore I've decided to use for this fic:</p><p>-Hercules Alighieri uses ey/em pronouns<br/>-Mint Shupe uses ze/hir, and is bio-luminescent<br/>-Siobhan Chark uses he/him or she/her, and is a hybrid shark and siren<br/>-Ankle Halifax uses they/them, and is part electric eel<br/>-Erin Jesaulenko uses she/they and is part sea dragon<br/>-Neerie McCloud uses she/her and is kind of a cloud, sort of.</p><p>None of the other characters off the team get mentioned by pronoun or abilities, I don't think, so that should about cover you. CWs for blood and body horror; this involves some characters turning into other things, so be wary.</p><p>Title is from "The Water's Fine" by The Family Crest.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is an inexplicable garden underground. The trees are painted silver-white and the peaches hanging on the branches are a deep, heavy blue. Hercules assumes this is a result of the light reflecting on the water; it takes a moment for em to remember it has been a while since ey were somewhere there was any light to see by.</p><p>With shaking hands and soaking clothes, Hercules drags emself upright. There is a pond, or a fountain, in the center. The trees bend toward it readily and Hercules follows suit, stumbling forward to the edge and leaning down to cup the water in eir hands.</p><p>It hurts eir fingers but ey drink it anyway, the first time anything has tasted of anything other than salt. It scratches eir throat like diamonds.</p><p>The sweet juice of a peach drips down eir skin as ey eat, and when ey return once again to the water, ey feel refreshed, vibrant. Ey fall asleep beside it, letting the cool air dry eir skin for the first time in months. And then, when it has been long enough, ey wander back down into the ocean ey came from, though ey do not want to leave.</p><p>Hercules tries to show the others. Ey lead Mint and Siobhan through the tunnels to where the pond was before, but they get turned around and wind up back in the cafeteria. Flattery tries to map out the area to get a better idea of where it might be, but they can’t find anything either.</p><p>After a time, they all dismiss it as a dream. After a time, Hercules forgets.</p><p>--</p><p>Descend. To go down. To fall. To discover the Under, to immerse yourself among the deep caverns of the unknown and build altars in the foundations of the earth. To follow, listlessly, the curvature of tunnels made from dripping water and filled with stalagmites and fossils the size of a grown man. To taste the salt of an ocean you cannot find, to hear rushing water and crashing waves echoing against the walls. To carve the stones with hands and fingernails, and then with teeth. To grip the muddy, broken rocks in the dark and pull yourself up to something approaching sunlight, only to find it was a trick of your eyes.</p><p>All this to say, the water did not come first. The caves came first, swallowed the Amphitheater within them like so much nothing, brought them all down into the dark, damp silence and made them dig. The water came long after, once they knew they were not going back.</p><p>When it came, though, it drove a steady pace. It swirled up around their hands as they carved out stairways and it filled the dormitories as they constructed their beds. So much water, frothing and salty and carrying coral and algae from oceans far away. Fish swam around their ankles and seaweed gripped their calves.</p><p>It rose so slowly that it was hard to notice. One morning it was at their toes; later, it was at their knees; then their thighs, their hips. Slowly, consciously, it consumed them. They did not need to breathe, but the salt stung their eyes and filled their lungs.</p><p>The transformation began with the earth under their fingernails. It did not stop there.</p><p>--</p><p>Siobhan’s scream echoes like a siren through the water of the halls. He stumbles gracelessly into the cafeteria with a hand held over his mouth, blood drifting out from his fingers like so much red ribbon. Her eyes are wide and frantic. She looks at Hercules like ey should have answers, one hand coming to grip eir wrist and staining the skin red.</p><p>When he opens his mouth, a set of grim, serrated teeth catch the light of the lanterns. Row upon row, still slick with deep burgundy. The gills on either side of her neck flutter with the effort of catching her breath; her chest heaves.</p><p><em>Help,</em> she says, with a voice like stone dragging against metal. <em>Hera, please.</em></p><p>It is a painful thing. Siobhan huddles in bed for days, every hour bringing with it new bouts of muscle spasms as patches of gray sandpaper sprout along her legs. Hercules trades off with the others, with Neerie and Niq and Geraldine, but it is hard to get any rest in the interim. Every moment is checking eir hair, eir skin, eir teeth; every moment is waiting for pain to tear through eir body and render them incapable of much else other than curling up and praying for it to end.</p><p>Siobhan emerges after what feels like an eternity, with too many teeth to count and a sharkskin tail where her legs should be. She does not move steadily, but the water is forgiving. Over time she learns to swim better than any of them, to drive himself forward with a powerful tail instead of plodding around on heavy feet.</p><p>When the leaf-like fins burst from Erin’s forearms, when they sprout from her cheekbones and spine, it is Siobhan who comforts them. He runs his long, pointed fingers through her hair and does not let anyone else near; his voice is like whale song, and he sings her to sleep.</p><p>--</p><p>They build a new Parthenon. It is heavy, difficult work, carving the stone into its proper shape and carrying it against the currents to the stretch of empty tunnel where it belongs. Jan digs a blueprint into the dirt and directs them through a haze of messy sign language; the definition is gone now, fingers turned to one solid fin.</p><p>There are statues to as many gods as they can remember. Serpents, krakens and all manner of men and women and beasts come to life under Geraldine’s fingers, Jan’s careful administrations. The figures tower over all of them. They are in the shadow of many things, giants and statues alike.</p><p>Neerie’s soft white hair bursts like so many bubbles one day, and the rest of her is not far behind. She is incorporeal at best, brief pockets of air and vapor and soft laughter in the water. It does not hurt, or so she claims; she no longer feels the pressure bearing down on the rest of them.</p><p>Hercules waits for eir turn. Ey watch as eir teammates undergo the painful transformations, as their skin shifts and their bones crack and meld and bend. Ey are careful, cautious, attempting to be prepared where no amount of preparation is enough.</p><p>Nothing happens. Every morning, ey wake to lungs full of seawater and skin rubbed raw and ashen. Every morning ey wonder why. The water does not provide answers.</p><p>--</p><p>The water is alight with shocks of blue, rippling out from Ankle like a force field. They dance along ahead of Hercules and the lanterns along the wall flicker to life as they pass.</p><p><em>So what makes you think you’ll find it?</em> they call back, glancing over a shoulder. The flowing fabrics of their dress billow out like a jellyfish, flashing as lightning runs along the threads. <em>You’ve never managed it before.</em></p><p><em>Call it a premonition,</em> Hercules says. Ey’re careful to keep eir distance from Ankle, far enough behind to avoid the worst of the shocks. But even from here it sets eir hair standing on edge and tingles against eir skin.</p><p>Ankle Halifax is a lot of things. They’re a dancer, for starters, spinning their way down the hall despite the way the currents pull and push against them. But they’re also fond, a little careless; Hera has the scars to prove it, fractals bursting across eir skin from where fingers and fabrics have come too close. The only reason ey’d asked Ankle to come along is because Mint was legitimately busy, and most of the others do not travel this deeply into the tunnels.</p><p>
  <em>How do you know this is the right way?</em>
</p><p>Hercules sighs, and the bubbles float up to burst against the roof of the tunnel. <em>I don’t.</em></p><p>These tunnels are not familiar, not quite, but Hercules has walked them enough. Ey have spent plenty of time following, leading, wandering through them with the image of silver-white branches and a tranquil pond in eir mind, to no avail.</p><p><em>You’re a fool, Hera,</em> Ankle says, but the words are tinged with laughter. <em>If I were to stumble upon a garden full of strange delights, I would never leave.</em></p><p>They leap over a deep crack in the path below them, dainty feet floating like a doll on a string. Hercules follows, with less grace and more of a running start. The water does not part so easily for eir body; it knows ey are still a foreigner, an interloper it cannot welcome fully into this damp, dark world.</p><p><em>I wanted to survive to see the morning</em>.</p><p>And ey had, and it had been just like any other. A morning of digging up dirt to build more stairways to nowhere, or moving stone to build a bed or a statue. A day of working and bending and shaping the tunnels to the vision that had been assigned to em.</p><p>Ankle gasps, hair rippling with blue lightning that scatters out from their body like falling stars. They collide with lanterns and shatter the glass, casting the hallway into darkness. Hercules dives to the ground and covers eir head to protect emself from the debris.</p><p><em>Halifax!</em> ey call. <em>What the hell was that?</em></p><p>Ankle reaches out and grabs eir shoulder. The shock is enough to set eir teeth chattering, eir muscles shaking.</p><p><em>Sorry, sorry!</em> They pull their hand away in a rush, but the sting stays behind, an ache down to Hercules’ bones. <em>I just—I thought I saw something, up ahead. We should keep going.</em></p><p>Hercules pushes emself up off the ground with a groan. Ey rub the skin of eir shoulder. <em>Lead the way.</em></p><p>It is not the garden that Hercules remembers, but it is a garden nonetheless. The water has found this place, has drowned the trees where they stand and left the remains. The branches sway in the current and catch the lightning floating off of Ankle as they survey the area.</p><p><em>Well</em>, they say.</p><p><em>No,</em> Hercules interrupts, <em>look.</em></p><p>In the center, still, a pool of clear blue water. It glimmers like diamonds and does not mingle with the salt and shadow around it, as still and tranquil as the day Hercules found it the first time. It is the first thing ey have seen in ages that looks like life.</p><p><em>Hera</em>, Ankle murmurs, standing stock-still even as the water pulls at their skirt, <em>I do not think you should have taken any of that.</em></p><p>There were rumors, once. History books. Something tickles in the back of Hercules’ mind, the leftovers of a lecture from Flattery or Niq. People sought something here. They came from far and wide to find a fountain or a river of something, of life and renewal.</p><p>Ankle rushes out of the room, toes barely even touching the floor in their hurry to escape. Hercules follows just behind.</p><p>--</p><p>They were not always underground, but it is hard to remember that now. The world is water, only water, water and shadow and silence. They gather seaweed in their hair and collect sand dollars and sea glass that drift on the currents.</p><p>The Amphitheater stands empty. They have no need for it here. One day, Geraldine tells them, it may empty out again. They will need to return again to the lives they had before, regardless of their new bodies, of the saltwater blood in their veins.</p><p>That day feels farther away with every passing moment. The darkness never fades; the water never warms. The memories fall apart like sand, until the Above is nothing more than a distant dream.</p><p>--</p><p>Mint’s pastel hair flickers like a flame in the water, collecting around hir head like cotton candy. Hir eyes glow in the dark of the tunnel and ze leans forward to kiss Hercules, softer than the ocean current. One webbed finger traces a line over eir cheekbone, coming to rest at the corner of eir mouth.</p><p><em>You, </em>ze murmurs, and this close, Hercules can see green light glimmering underneath hir skin, <em>found the Fountain of Youth, Hera Alighieri.</em></p><p>It is a familiar theory, one that has been recited to em dozens of times. Ze’d said it the first time they’d kissed, had claimed ze was searching for eternal youth in the only place ze knew it would be. It had been a fib then; it remains a fib now.</p><p>Hercules laughs, leaning in to tuck eir head into the curve of hir neck. <em>No one ages here. What difference does it make if I did?</em></p><p>Mint clicks hir tongue and it reverberates off the walls, a mediocre echolocation that reveals nothing but themselves. Ze runs a hand over Hercules’ shoulder and down eir spine, tracing out every ridge through eir thin shirt. The water is still around them, cold. That is what makes Hercules shiver; nothing more.</p><p><em>I want to believe you will never know this pain,</em> Mint tells em. Ze says it easily, as easy as breathing. Hir own transformation was so long ago that Hera has difficulty remembering what ze looked like before. Perhaps Mint had always glowed and glittered; perhaps all that changed was the darkness around them.</p><p>But that’s not true. Hercules had been there for the worst of it, had wiped the viscera from between hir fingers as the webbed skin grew. Ey watched the scales sprout in the space around Mint’s eyes and had brushed hir hair even as it began to glow and twitch, as it tangled in the water around hir head.</p><p>Hercules lifts eir head to look at zem, twirling a strand of hir hair around one of eir incredibly ordinary fingers. <em>I would like to say the same.</em></p><p>Just like that, Mint turns the lights off. The soft green of hir hair, the shimmering blue of hir skin and fins, it flickers out like a candle. Ze leans in, sharp teeth scraping against Hera’s bottom lip as ze laughs into another kiss, this one hard enough to bruise. <em>Would you?</em></p><p>The water does not care for them the way it ought to. It chafes against their skin and turns them into monsters, gives them the tools to survive in the most painful way it can. Even so, Hercules knows Mint is right; the transformations leave them better off, more themselves than they have ever been.</p><p><em>No,</em> ey sigh, <em>I suppose not.</em></p><p>--</p><p>The Amphitheater empties with a roar. The water forces its way out, out and away, current strong enough to force everyone to cling to the closest surface to stay put. Stadium lights flicker on high above and they all catch themselves blinking against it, the sudden influx more than their weak eyes can handle.</p><p>They do not remember the Above. It has been too long, years or centuries or eons since they breathed air like humans do. Siobhan lets out a long, melancholy note, and it is as much a summoning as a goodbye.</p><p>It is not as easy to walk on land as Hercules remembered. The feeling of sand and gravel beneath eir bare feet is an unwelcome intrusion, and the dry air grates on the salt-worn skin of eir arms unpleasantly. Judging by the look of eir teammates, they feel much the same. Mint catches eir eye and purses hir lips, inner eyelids fluttering in an effort to preserve whatever water remains.</p><p>Something has changed. In the sky above, a golden circle hovers.</p><p><em>Do not blame yourselves</em>, it says. <em>This is not your fault</em>.</p><p>The earth rumbles beneath their feet. Spiderweb cracks of light break through the dome of the earth’s crust, high above them all. It is hard not to feel the weight of a wronged god beneath the falling stone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you read this whole nonsensical thing, you are my new best friend. Hello, nice to meet you, thank you for your service.</p><p>I'm typically a Flowers fan, but please do come talk to me about either the Flowers or the Georgias! I am @leonstamatis on Tumblr, and I'm also @blink in the maincord - though I admittedly don't do as much there. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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